


Right for You

by hale_hounds



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a Failwolf, Jealous Stiles, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hale_hounds/pseuds/hale_hounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Derek starts getting back into the dating field, Stiles finds Derek's failure rate to be hilarious.. until he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right for You

**Author's Note:**

> I wouldn't really call this a fic, but we can call it a not!fic. This is only my third time posting to AO3 and this site still confuses me sometimes. No one read or edited anything but me, so if it's bad I apologize. 
> 
> Also, since I'm not good at titles, this one is taken simply from Right for You by Lil Silva.
> 
> Also, I apologize for the terrible summary.

Ever since Derek's come back from his yearlong trip to who knows where (a thing he's fond of doing every time shit goes down), he's been trying to get back into the dating pool. The only problem is, he's sinking and drowning… Miserably. Stiles thinks it's possibly because Derek only attracts dangerous girls. There was Kate, who turned out to be a psychotic werewolf killer. Then Jennifer, who started off sweet and had everyone fooled but she was actually a demonic creature. Lastly, and the most sane one of the trio, Braeden. Not psychotic, not a demon, just a girl who gets paid big bucks as a mercenary for a living. When Derek returned, Braeden didn't tag along and instead stayed in Europe to continue doing mercenary things. Derek was pretty bummed out about it for a while, but Lydia suggested that he go to bars and clubs, meet new people, mingle a bit. Which is a great feat itself since Derek trusts no one but members of the pack. But almost everyone's doing their part in helping Derek find... Someone. Someone who won't try to kill him while he sleeps; a number one priority. But even with that being a top requirement, Derek's still crashing and burning.

Derek storms into the loft with his white Henley, one of Stiles' personal favorites, covered in red wine and the scowliest of scowls on his face. "You can cross your cousin, Helen, off the list," Derek grumbles, peeling out of the shirt.

"What did you do?" Stiles chuckles, trying not to break into full laughter as Derek glares at him.

"Do? I didn't _do_ anything," he growls, moving to his drawer to find a clean shirt. Derek sighs as he fails to find a shirt and just opts for a tank top that's been discarded on the floor earlier. "We were having a conversation about the history of-"

"Lemme stop you there," Stiles says, smirking and holding up a finger as he already knows where this is headed, "you got all nerdy about history, probably unknowingly said something insulting, which in turn made her feel like an idiot, which is why you came ramming through that door soaked in Pinot Noir." Stiles preens at Derek's flat stare, taking that as Derek's silent way of saying, "you're so right and I hate it." He knows his surly werewolf so well, it's almost scary.

Derek groans, falling against his bed and staring up at the ceiling, "I at least tried apologizing before she threw the drink in my face."

"I'm sure the apology was some backhanded compliment," Stiles says for certain, hearing Derek sigh again. "I can never go back to that restaurant. It's too embarrassing," Derek moans. Stiles waves a hand, making a noncommittal grunt, "eh, I bet that restaurant doesn't even serve amazing pizza."

Derek sits up on his elbows, staring at Stiles before asking, "what are you even still doing here?"

"I wanted to see how the date went," Stiles shrugs one shoulder, flipping through a book from Derek's shelf he'd been trying to read ever since Derek left for the date.

"You could've just texted and asked?" Derek tells him, quirking an eyebrow. Stiles hums, grinning back at Derek, "nah, this was better. Seeing you storm in all angry. Lydia's gonna love this. Speaking of Martin," "uh-uh," Derek says, shaking his head, "I'm not doing anymore relatives. You can cross Lydia's sister off the list too."

Stiles gapes, awing before arguing, "but Phoebe's cool!"

"I'll take your word for it," Derek grumbles, falling back against his bed, "goodnight, Stiles." Stiles rolls his eyes but gathers his backpack and keys anyways, heading towards the door. "Goodnight, Sourwolf," he says on the way out, smiling to himself.

 

oOo

 

Just as Stiles thought, Lydia found the story to be hilarious. And every effort after that only gets worse. Danny thought The Jungle might work for Derek because why not? But once again, Derek returns to the loft covered in glitter and a sour attitude. Lydia's knocked out on the other end of the couch and Derek storming in doesn't even wake her.

"Jesus. Did you get puked on by a glitter dragon?" Stiles quips as Derek shakes his head.

"Something like that," Derek mumbles, "I need to shower."

"Wait!" Stiles says, "I wanna know how it went first."

"Stiles, I got sparkly shit in places I'd rather they not be. I need to shower," he says firmly, ignoring Stiles' stream of questions as he heads up the stairs to the bathroom. Stiles can hear the water running from the second floor of the loft, and Stiles has thought of Derek naked enough times that it's pretty much normal by now. When Derek returns downstairs, he's only in a pair of sweats, running his fingers through his wet hair. He's clearly still pissed about the glitter and Stiles may start coming up with elaborate pranks involving shiny nuisance.

"So," Stiles drawls, starting a conversation just to distract him from the 'V' of Derek's hips, "what was his name?"

"Craig, I think. Or maybe Colin? Nope. Andrew? It was probably Adam," Derek answers.

"And what happened?" Stiles pries.

"It was... Fine, at first," Derek answers, almost sounding unsure. "Bought him a couple drinks. We danced, but the guy can't dance for shit," Derek smirks and this may be the first time Derek semi smiled after a bad date.

"Oh, man. I would've loved to see that; Derek Hale busting a move on the dancefloor. Or was it more of slow grinding?" Stiles asks, smiling devilishly and winking Derek's way. Derek ducks his head, looking back at Stiles through his long lashes, causing Stiles' insides to flip. "Wouldn't you like to know," Derek says, voice low and smirking again as he shakes his hands through his hair. It's really gotten quite longer since his return and it's _doing_ things to Stiles. Not to mention the newly found image in Stiles' mind of Derek's hips grinding to slow jams.

Stiles feels himself blushing as he clears his throat, trying to turn the attention back the the date, "so what went wrong with this Adam guy?"

"Besides that he was wearing too much cologne and covered in enough glitter to be in an eight year old's arts and crafts project?" Derek says before sighing and listing one thing after the other. "He then pulled me outside all while whispering about the kinky stuff he'd do to me." Stiles' face distorts, his upper lip turning downwards in a frown, disgusted by the thought of anyone touching Derek. Not that it matters because Derek isn't his boyfriend or anything. "And just as he's about to obviously try and make out with me," Derek continues, "he throws up right next to me," he tells him. Stiles howls in laughter before shutting his mouth with his hand, remembering Lydia is asleep right next to him.

"Hey," Stiles giggles, "at least nothing was spilled on you this time."

"You seem to have forgotten the glitter he was covered in and managed to rub off on me. That shit's still in my hair," Derek says annoyed. He lets out a breath, looking defeated as he sits at his bed, staring at his clasped hands, "maybe I'm not cut out for this. Maybe I'm just not meant to date."

Stiles tsks as he moves from the couch to sit by Derek on his bed. "C'mon, big guy. You can't think like that. There's someone out there for you, they just... haven't found you yet," Stiles says, staring right into Derek's big blue-green eyes. They're sitting there in the dimly lit quiet (except for Lydia's soft snoring) and Stiles doesn't realize how close they are until he notices that he could literally count every strand of stubble on Derek's beard. And Derek is staring right back at him with a look of something like awe or fondness expressed on his face. It's probably the most beautiful expression Stiles has ever seen on Derek's face. Stiles catches Derek's eyes flit down to his lips and instinctively, Stiles licks his lips. A short breath escapes from Derek's own soft looking mouth and he looks to be leaning in.

"Well," Stiles shoots out of the bed, clapping his hands together and Derek looks like a suddenly confused puppy. He should really stop being so adorable, Stiles thinks. "We should get going. Lydia's got a 10am lecture tomorrow, I gotta start the early shift. Busy day, busy day," he sing-songs. Stiles grabs his backpack and then heads over to Lydia, shaking her to consciousness until she's up and mumbling. Even with her hair wild and couch cushion imprinted in her cheek, she's still beautiful. It's too bad his crush has migrated elsewhere. "Gotta go, Lyds. See you later, Derek," Stiles says, rushing a sleepy Lydia out the door as he tries carrying the combination of her, her bookbag, and his own heavy backpack.

"What the hell, Stiles," Lydia groans when they get to the car. Stiles grips the steering wheel with clammy hands, letting out a shaky breath and staring ahead at the brick wall of the loft building. He curses himself, thinking that it's just his luck to fall for another person he has no chance with. It was bad enough with Lydia and it took all of high school to get over her, but now with Derek, who knows how long it'll take. Why did Derek have to look so soft and vulnerable and just all around beautiful? Why did Stiles have to be the dumbass who gives the "everyone has someone" talk, but bolt out of there when Derek was about to... Stiles has no idea what Derek was about to do. He could've been leaning in to blow an eyelash off of Stiles' cheek, maybe he was about to tell Stiles a really juicy secret. Or maybe, and this is wishful thinking, but maybe Derek was leaning in to kiss him.

Stiles whimpers, thumping his head against the steering wheel. He's about to ask Lydia her opinion, but when he turns to look at her, she's knocked back out, softly snoring with her head propped up by the window. Stiles just sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot. He can ask her what he should do some other time when she's not conked out.

 

oOo

 

Stiles stops hanging around the loft as much after what happened. Not by choice, but... yeah, by choice. He doesn't ask Derek how his dates go. He avoids the topic whenever it's brought up and he's gotten pretty damn good at avoiding uncomfortable situations. When Lydia or anyone else asks what's going on, he half lies, saying that he's been busy with work or papers that are due. And when Derek texts him, "haven't seen you around the loft lately. Everything okay?" Stiles just replies, "how r u supposed to bring anyone home to have sexy times if I'm always there?"

Stiles regrets sending that message afterwards. His dreams as of recently have all consisted of Derek sweaty and naked, in bed with a different person each night from Stiles' imagination. Even if he's dreaming of the gorgeous werewolf in all of his naked glory, it's not the good type of dreams he used to have. It's the type of dream you toss and turn over, the dream you think about and question during the day until you just want to forget about it. Because when Stiles wakes up, the last thing he wants to spend the day thinking about is the countless people who get to touch Derek. The people who get to know what Derek looks and sounds like when he's writhing in his bedsheets. Worst of all, the people who just get to be with Derek, embraced by Derek, loved and cared for by Derek. When the people in his dreams are replaced with him being touched by Derek, it just hurts. Stiles ends up bolting awake, out of breath and sweating while his own dick betrays him. Cold showers don't even work anymore and trying to go to sleep after having such a dream is hard; emphasis on Hard.

Stiles stops going to the loft altogether, too scared to face Derek and trying not think about the dreams he's had. He so sure he'd blurt out something stupid or make some mistake that he couldn't forgive himself for. Texting or calling Derek is completely out of the question and now the pack is getting suspicious of his weird behavior. No one says anything to him, though. They could be staying silent for his sake and honestly, Stiles appreciates it. Except he still gets knowing looks from Scott and Lydia, and Stiles tries to pass off a weak smile and an, "I'm fine."

Whether he wants to hear anything or not, Stiles continues to get updates about Derek's dating life. They're still a swing and a miss for Derek apparently. Lydia believes Stiles is the reason why Derek isn't having the best dates. "I don't know what you and Derek are going through, but it's messing up his game. He's barely even trying now," Lydia had said one afternoon when they were studying together. Stiles didn't know if he should've felt good or bad about it. On one hand, he was cheering to himself, chanting in his brain, "if I can't have him, they can't either!" Crazy, he knows. But he still felt just as guilty for not realizing that somehow he was depriving Derek of a love life. Whatever Derek felt about Stiles, it must've been something special. Well, not now anyways. Stiles has messed up; he knows that, at least. 

When Stiles hears that Derek's been on three dates with one of his dad's newer deputies, Stiles doesn't get worried per se. Stiles wouldn't call it jealousy either. He just doesn't know how to feel. Proud and happy for Derek is probably how Stiles thinks he should feel, and he does a little bit. Of course though, it slowly fades into something like sadness. "This is it," Stiles thinks quietly to himself, "Derek's finally found someone."

"Him and Kyle didn't work out," Lydia suddenly informs him over lunch. It breaks Stiles out of his thoughts and he's left staring at Lydia like a deer in headlights, with a mouthful of rice and guacamole. Stiles remembers Kyle; sandy brown hair, adorable freckles, amazing hazel eyes, and a body tan and built. Kyle's the sweetest guy on the force, second to Deputy Parrish. He wonders why the two didn't stick, and he could just call and ask Derek himself but then remembers that he's too chickenshit to. "Derek says it just didn't feel right," she continues, "whatever that means." Lydia rolls her eyes as if annoyed but then grins, "but Isaac found the perfect girl. She's basically Derek but.. Cooler. She's a history nerd just like him, loves Game of Thrones, and she works at a bookstore. It's practically a win win for Derek."

"Oh, yeah?" Stiles says, trying to sound happy for Derek, but his tone comes out as anything but.

Lydia squints at him, putting down her phone to ask, "what's going on with you? Derek doesn't even seem to know and he could read you like a thousand page novel."

Stiles shrugs as he thinks of a true enough lie, quick, "it's nothing. Finals are coming up and Professor Burton has been working me hard. Not to mention, I now start the morning shift at my job." Lydia still squints at him but purses her lips and doesn't press him any further. He's actually thankful that Lydia finds the text she just gets more important than the drama Stiles is dealing with.

 

oOo

 

Stiles keeps hearing that Misha and Derek are really hitting it off. They've been on six dates and that's three more than Kyle. Not that Stiles is keeping count or anything. He's totally over it by now and Derek can date whoever he wants. "It's fine," Stiles keeps telling himself all the way to Lydia's apartment.

It's movie night with the pack and it's Stiles' favorite night. Where he's surrounded by his friends and can indulge in junk food without feeling guilty about it. Plus, Stiles got to pick the movie for the night so, of course, he picked a Hitchcock classic. Usually the whole pack complains about his choice of film, except Derek who's always been his number one backup. Derek, who's still not here to defend him against the groaning protests of everyone else as he slides in the DVD. He begins to wonder if Derek will even show up at all tonight or if he's gone on a seventh date with Misha instead. But it's not like Stiles is mad about it. Again, Derek can go on however many dates he wants with whomever. Besides, Stiles is pretty sure Derek's seen every Alfred Hitchcock film. The guy practically lives off of the TCM channel, like the adorable old man he is.

However, just as Stiles is accepting the fact that Derek won't show up, Derek walks through the door... with whom Stiles is guessing is Misha, the bookstore girl. Stiles is the only one guessing, as it seems the pack has already met Misha. Scott even fist bumps her like old friends as he passes her to get to the living room from the kitchen.

"I don't think we've met," Misha smiles, extending a hand for Stiles to shake, but currently, his hands are full of fatty snacks and he's too busy staring at her. But by the way she slightly frowns and drops her proffered hand, he must be unintentionally glaring.

"Sorry, I'm Stiles," he says almost bitterly, because he really can't believe this. Misha is so fucking cute. But in like a fierce supermodel way, if that even makes sense. She's got to be as tall as Derek even without her heels, and her skin... it's fucking flawlessly smooth. Also, how dare her brown eyes just go great with her amazing brown skin! And how is her hair so perfectly curly yet big and wild like a lion's mane? He's not angry, he swears he's not, but holy shitballs, this isn't fair. If Stiles thought his scrawny, pale ass didn't stand a chance at first, he definitely does not now. Not standing next the this glamazonian woman! 

"Um, I guess I'll go find a seat," Misha says, nudging up her adorable fucking glasses before strutting off. Stiles stares after her, and of course, she's even got a great ass under those short shorts. When Derek catches him staring, Stiles just shrugs it off, not wanting to say out loud that he just wanted to see if her butt was even better than his. He'd rather Derek believe that he was checking out his girlfriend than that Stiles is seeing how she's right for Derek while he isn't.

"How've you been?" Derek asks, still awkwardly standing in the hallway between the front door and kitchen.

"I've been better," Stiles says with a nod, "my dad let me borrow The Birds. Isaac keeps complaining that it'll be boring."

"You know Isaac never likes classic films," Derek smirks, "c'mon, let's go before they start a riot and vote to watch something else." Stiles nods, leading the way to the living room as he feels Derek's hand on the small of his back while they walk together. But Stiles stops short when he sees that his and Derek's reserved spot on the couch is taken. It's the best spot in all of Lydia's living room and Derek and him always sit together because they're the only ones who like kettle corn with chocolate raisins. It's the spot where they nonstop give each other movie trivia and debate whether an action scene is plausible in real life. Derek isn't bothered by it at all and sits right in his spot next to Misha, throwing an arm around the back.

"Am I in your spot?" Misha asks, about to move to get up. "No," Stiles spurts, "no, no. It's fine," he lies before finding a spot on the carpet by Lydia's legs. She seems to sense his discomfort and lightly scratches her fingers through his hair as she presses play on the remote. Stiles sighs as he thinks the world needs more Lydia's. But Stiles can barely enjoy the movie, he's given up on the popcorn and just gives it to Derek. He's not even watching the movie because he's too busy staring at Misha, waiting for something to go wrong. Like maybe she'll sprout fangs and wings, or stand up and give a huge speech about how she's actually Satan's spawn and she eats babies for fun. Maybe she'll say the worst thing in Derek's book and claim that history is boring, irrelevant, and not necessary for anyone's life. But Stiles scratches that off because he remembers Misha's a history buff.

She even enjoys the popcorn that was specifically made for Derek and Stiles. And when she catches Stiles staring at her, she grins at him before whispering something in Derek's ear that makes him blush in that adorable way that only usually Stiles can. Stiles bolts up, heading to the kitchen pretending to get a soda, when really it's for him to breathe. He doesn't know why he's so worked up when he should be happy for Derek. He finally found someone who's cool and sweet and shares the same interests as Derek. It's not like she's not some sociopathic murderer!

Stiles lets out a final breath as he stops pacing the kitchen floor. The best thing to do is to get out of there, Stiles thinks. He heads back into the living room, making up the worst lie you could tell to a group of werewolves, "hey, uh, work called me in, so I'm gonna head out." No one bothers moving or even cares and for once, they're actually interested in the movie he's picked and Stiles has to leave. Stiles turns on his heel anyways and heads for the door, ready to open it when Derek pops up right behind him.

"Your phone didn't ring" Derek says as a matter of fact, scaring Stiles halfway to the ceiling.

"It's on silent," Stiles shrugs as his heart calms down, moving to open the door but Derek shuts it.

"No, it's not. What's going on with you? Lydia says you've been acting weird and she's right. You've been avoiding me ever since that night I came back from the club," Derek tells him.

"Did you ever get that glitter completely out of your hair?" Stiles quips but Derek doesn't smirk back, not even a chuckle.

"Stop avoiding the question," Derek says, crossing his arms and staring him down. Stiles thumps his head back against the door, blowing out a frustrated breath as he stares over Derek's shoulder at Misha. Derek's eyes follow and he's staring back at Stiles and there's that damn, all knowing smirk. "You're jealous, aren't you?" Derek grins. Great, now Derek's making fun of him and he'll get rejected right here in Lydia's apartment.

"No," lie. "I'm not jealous," another lie. By this point, Stiles is just shooting lies like an Olympic medalist. "I told you, I just have to go to work," he lies for the umpteenth time and Derek growls annoyed.

"No, you don't, Stiles. Everyone here knows you don't!" Derek all but shouts.

"Why can't you just let me go?" Stiles says quietly, swallowing an emotional lump in his throat. He doesn't want to do this right now and definitely not in front of Derek. Sure, he's cried in front of Derek before, but he's never cried in front of Derek because of him.

"Because you're supposed to be here," Derek says just as softly and Stiles scoffs. He doesn't mean to, but it just happens. "You sure about that? 'Cause I'm pretty sure my spot's just been taken. Both literally and figuratively," Stiles snarks, gesturing a hand towards Misha who's still sitting comfortable in his seat.

"Okay," Derek nods, clearly tired of this conversation, "you want to know something that you've missed out on since you've been avoiding me," Derek says in a low voice.

"Fine, enlighten me," Stiles raises and drops his hands in defeat.

"I'm not dating Misha," Derek says so easily.

"What?" Stiles says like it's ridiculous because it is, "of course you're dating her, Derek. You've gone on like seven dates with her, you brought her to pack night, and you got your arm wrapped around her while she whispers sweet nothings in your ear."

"Stiles" Derek puts in a tone like Stiles is an idiot who's just not getting it, "Misha," he then points to her and then back to Stiles, "is a lesbian."

Stiles stands there quietly, staring at Derek confused and then blankly as he says, "fuck you, Derek. That's not funny."

"Oh my god, I'm in love with the smartest moron ever," Derek groans, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Shut up, you're an oxymoron," Stiles shoots back only to receive a flat glare, "...are you being serious right now?"

"I've been serious this whole time, Stiles. Misha is a friend. Misha is also a lesbian. She is not into me. I am into you," Derek breaks it down.

"Well, if she's a lesbian, then why did Isaac set you up with her?" Stiles asks.

"Because Isaac's an idiot," Derek one shoulder shrugs, "the very first day me and Misha met, she told me straight up that she was a lesbian. Isaac's listening skills aren't the best and he managed to skip over that very important part of her."

"So," Stiles starts, trying to take it all in, "Misha's a lesbian, Isaac's an idiot, and you're in love with me."

Derek nods, smiling down at Stiles as he steps closer, "seems so, unfortunately." Stiles laughs, punching Derek in the chest, "haha, very funny, asshole," he says before staring back up at Derek, "I might be in love with you too." Derek closes the distance between them, catching Stiles lips in a kiss that he has been waiting for since he first realized he'd fallen for the sourwolf.

"You guys are loud kissers," Malia yells from the living room, breaking Derek and him up to laugh into each other's shoulder. Derek gives him one last peck on the lips, before grabbing his hand and walking them back to the living room where everyone is staring at them. "Okay, shows over, dweebs," Stiles grins as he moves to the carpet and Derek follows, sitting right behind him and wrapping his arms around him.

Stiles still can't pay attention to the movie because now all he's thinking about is the sex he and Derek are missed out on a will makeup for. 

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a dialogue prompt list that I don't know how to link to yet. Also, I'm my own worst critic but I really hope you enjoyed. Comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
